


Appreciate

by Naughty_Yorick



Series: The Alphabet Game [1]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Caring, Cute, Geralt POV, M/M, Rated T for swears, Romantic Gestures, thoughtful musings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:21:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27167186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Naughty_Yorick/pseuds/Naughty_Yorick
Summary: Geralt does not ask for thanks. He doesn’t ask for praise or adulation - only coin. This is his job.Geralt doesn't want to be a hero, the subject of folk legend. He doesn't seek praise. And Jaskier - who's there, always, with clean bandages, warm meals or a harsh word for those still set on pushing a witcher out - doesn't give it to him. He gives him something better.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: The Alphabet Game [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1983026
Comments: 13
Kudos: 305





	Appreciate

**Author's Note:**

> I challenged myself to write a fic for every letter of the alphabet. I took each letter, plugged it into a random word generator and wrote a fic based on whichever word it gave me. This letter is "A", and the word is "appreciate"! See more of my Alphabet Challenge on my tumblr, [here!](https://a-kind-of-merry-war.tumblr.com/post/632799468062916608/alphabet-game-master-post)

Geralt does not ask for thanks. He doesn’t ask for praise or adulation - only coin. This is his job. He doesn’t hunt monsters because of the valour that comes with saving people, he does it because he’s a witcher. People, typically, don’t celebrate witchers. They pay them and move on. 

Geralt doesn’t need praise or adulation - and no one gives it to him.

Geralt isn’t a hero from the stories his mother used to tell him when he was a boy, and he doesn’t ask to be. He knows that even Jaskier’s songs and their overblown lyrics aren’t designed to immortalise him like a folk legend: they’re designed to earn money.

But after a long hunt, no matter how close to dawn or how late at night, Jaskier sits with him until the toxicity subsides and the trembling stops and he can finally sleep. When his hair is coated in blood, Jaskier dunks water over his head and washes it away with swift, tender fingers. When an angry villager threatens to have him removed from a tavern, Jaskier puffs up like a blowball and shouts until they back down.

When there’s an injury on Geralt’s back that he can’t quite reach, Jaskier cleans and bandages it. When there’s an ache in his calf from the wound he sustained over a year ago and he can’t get fucking comfortable, Jaskier will silently reach for his leg and press his thumbs into the flesh until the worst of the pain subsides. When he’s in town, he brings back food for Geralt and oats for Roach. When he’s on the road, he picks the herbs and flowers that he knows Geralt needs for alchemy. 

When Geralt’s contracts dry up and there’s no more adventures - just drowners and wild dogs - he half expects Jaskier to leave. But he doesn’t. He still sits with him when he can’t sleep, still washes his hair, still picks him little bundles of celandine even though Geralt isn’t using up the ingredients he already has. There’s no money for inns, and no stories for songs, but even _then_ Jaskier still washes his hair in the streams they’re forced to bathe in.

Geralt isn’t used to such soft, continual affection. He can’t understand where it comes from - why Jaskier carves out time and money and energy for him. So when they eat outside, a hare roasting over the fire, Geralt makes sure he gets fed first. When the seasons change and it begins to grow chilly, Geralt spreads his bedroll next to Jaskier’s and wraps an arm around him, sheltering him from the worst of the cold. If he needs to, he lets him ride on Roach - but only if he truly needs to.

And when he passes him the first strip of meat, or presses his hand to his chest beneath a thin blanket or even heaves him up onto Roach’s back, Jaskier says a dutiful thanks and then, the next day, there’s always more hair washing and massages and flowers and small, continual acts of appreciation, one after the other, willingly given with nothing asked for in return.

Geralt does not hunt monsters for praise or glory. He does not work for thanks. But when Jaskier presses his hands to Geralt’s shoulders as he bathes, smelling sweetly of chamomile, and starts to rub away the troubles of the day, Geralt thinks he doesn’t need them anyway.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[PODFIC] Appreciate - Naughty_Yorick](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28967541) by [LenaReads (LenaLawlipop)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LenaLawlipop/pseuds/LenaReads)




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